Marked
by Shotzette
Summary: Lenny needs a favor...


Marked  
  
By Shotzette  
Rated PG-13  
  
This is a work of fanfiction, written for entertainment purposes only. It is not intended to infringe upon anyone's copyrights anywhere. I only wish  
I was making money off of this.  
  
"No!"  
  
"Pretty please with Bosco on top?"  
  
"No, Lenny! I can't believe you'd ask me to do something like that! That's disgusting!"  
  
"I've asked you to do disgusting things before, Laverne. Haven't I?" he whined.  
  
"More than I like to remember. This is a new low, though. Even for you. Are you sure Squiggy didn't put you up to this?"  
  
"No! And he can't know that it was you who did it. He has to think it was Gretchen from labeling."  
  
"I ain't gonna do it! How many times to I have to tell you, I'm not gonna give you a hickey!"  
  
"Please?"  
  
"I ain't going through this again, Len," she vowed, exasperation coloring her voice. She and Shirley needed to start locking their door. This was getting ridiculous. "I'm not going to do it, no way no how. Why'd you pick me to ask anyhow?"  
  
"Well, I've known you since forever. I thought we was friends." Lying was never Lenny's forte. He hung his head sheepishly as he added in a mumble, "and, you're the only girl I know who's home on a Friday night."  
  
"Get out!" she bellowed, grabbing his jacket and propelling him to the door.  
  
"Ouch! C'mon, Laverne. Your my last straw," he pleaded. A revelation seemed to strike him before he asked, "Shirley ain't home, is she?"  
  
"No, she's out with Carmine," Laverne said, rolling her eyes in renewed disgust. "And even if she was home, there's no way she would give you a hickey. Can't you use a vacuum cleaner, or something?"  
  
"Nah... Those never look real. Please, Laverne! You gotta help me. If Squiggy and Hector find out Gretchen stood me up tonight, they'll never let me hear the end of it."  
  
"Serves you right for bragging all week that you were taking Give-It-Away Gretchen out tonight. You had to know that it would get back to her."  
  
"Yeah, but compared to the stuff the other guys say about her, I didn't think it was so bad."  
  
He was clueless, as always. She glanced at the clock on the bookshelf. Five minutes until Lloyd Bridges in a wetsuit, she thought as a shiver ran down her spine. "Good bye, Lenny."  
  
"Please, Laverne! I'll never ever ever ask you for nothing again. I swear!"  
  
"Not that I believe you for a second, but Sea Hunt's about to start and I want to enjoy Lloyd Bridges in peace and quiet, which means without you being here."  
  
"So you'll do it?"  
  
"Yes. But, if you ever--and I mean ever, tell anybody about this, I'll knock your teeth to Peoria. Got it?"  
  
"Got it. Thanks, Laverne. You don't know how much this means to me."  
  
"And I don't really want to," she mumbled, before taking a deep breath. "Okay, let's get it over with. Pull down your collar."  
  
"Now?" he squeaked.  
  
"No, Lenny. Labor Day weekend. Of course I mean now!"  
  
"Don't get mad. It's just sort of sudden is all..."  
  
"Four minutes until Sea Hunt starts..."  
  
"Okay, okay. Is that far down enough?"  
  
"More than enough. Brace yourself," she said as she leaned in towards him.  
  
He drew back, suddenly. "You're not gonna do one of those bitey-hurty ones, are you?"  
  
"No, I'm not going to do one of those bitey-hurty ones, Lenny," she said in the most annoyingly sing-song voice she could muster, "I'm going to do one of those fast and forgettable get-the-moron-out-of-my-house ones."  
  
"Okay. Those don't hurt as much. I'm ready," he stated, as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, exposing himself to her mouth, "let her rip!"  
  
Grimly, she moved towards him, and shook her head at his all too trusting nature. Her arms snaked around his neck--soley for the purpose of pulling herself up to his height, of course. She zoned in on a patch of skin beneath his nervously clenching jaw and mechanically touched her lips to his neck. If he wanted a hickey, he was going to get one helluva hickey. Laverne DeFazio, if for nothing else, was known for her skill. As she mechanically began to suck on his flesh, her eyes were once again drawn to the small clock on the bookshelf.  
  
Three minutes until Sea Hunt began. A decent hickey only took a minute.  
  
She closed her eyes and tried to think of something pleasant. The combined scents of Aqua Velva, licorice, chocolate, and musk was nearly overwhelming; but not in a bad way. Sort of...exotic? Funny. She hadn't realized what a comfortable height Lenny was until this moment; tall enough to wear heels with, but well within the reach of a comfortable slow dance. The perfect height in an imperfect guy.  
  
Two minutes until Sea Hunt began.  
  
Well, she'd done it for this long; she should see it though for another minute or so. Just to make sure that the mark she was leaving was the unmistakable purpley-red shade of clumsy love. Clumsy love. No two words would ever describe Lenny Kosnowski better. Utterly without guile--and usually good judgement, Lenny was the most earnest guy she'd ever met. As well as being the most physically uncoordinated, she was forced to acknowledge as she felt his hands twitch nervously as they were placed gingerly on her hips. He probably wanted to make sure the hickey would be dark enough to be seen a block away, she thought ruefully. The only times she'd ever seen him not looking physically comfortable was with his guitar in his hands. When he was thinking about his music, it was like Lenny was a different person. Privately, she'd always believed that person was the real Lenny, not the guy who spent his life as Squiggy's sidekick.  
  
One minute until Sea Hunt.  
  
Laverne stiffened as her tongue flicked over his turgid skin, as of on it's own accord. The hands on her hips tightened their grip, but didn't pull her any closer. Lenny's nearly silent moan made the blood rush to her cheeks, from embarrassement or arousal, she didn't know. Laverne closed her eyes and concentrated on the pulsing sensation against her lips. Pulling back would mean confronting the moment, something she was loathe to do.  
  
Suddenly, Lenny's hands pushed her gently backwards. "Thanks, Vernie," he said in a slighly shaky voice, "this means a lot to me."  
  
She forced a quick smile. "No problem, what are friends for? Good luck. I hope Squiggy and Hector believe your story."  
  
A shadow flickered across his face. "Yeah, about that... So what if Squiggy and Hector find out I got stood up? It's not like it ain't ever happened to Hector, y'know."  
  
"Oh," she replied, suddenly at a loss for words.  
  
"I know you're probably busy tomorrow night and all," he began, looking at his shoes, "but I was wondering if you'd like to go out. With me," he clarified.  
  
"Actually, I do have a date for tomorrow night," she said, almost apologetically at the crestfallen expression on his face, "But, I'm sort of free tonight."  
  
"But...Sea Hunt--"  
  
"It might be a rerun. Besides, it's not like Lloyd Bridges is going anywhere." She looked down at her faded sweatshirt and jeans. "Can you give me ten minutes to change?"  
  
"Sure! That will give me time to go find my turtleneck," he replied. As he touched his bruised throat, his eyes met hers, and there was an unfamiliar glimmer of rationality in their blue depths, "I don't want people to talk."  
  
FIN 


End file.
